Once upon a time,
I lined my waist with numbers;
I would waste my time
calculating endless sums
for my basic needs.
There would be fines for
overstepping boundaries –
a scaling back of
my supposed sense of greed.
Once upon a time,
I timed my pain with numbers;
Making sure I met
my set target every day;
for a balance had
to be closely kept
between input and output –
red flags would be raised
If I went into the black.
Once upon a time,
I was defined by numbers;
My life resigned to
mathematical strategies.
Now I understand
though I am not a number,
and I do not add up; yet
I count just because
I am me
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
Once upon a time,
I lined my waist with numbers;
I would waste my time
calculating endless sums
for my basic needs.
There would be fines for
overstepping boundaries –
a scaling back of
my supposed sense of greed.
Once upon a time,
I timed my pain with numbers;
Making sure I met
my set target every day;
for a balance had
to be closely kept
between input and output –
red flags would be raised
If I went into the black.
Once upon a time,
I was defined by numbers;
My life resigned to
mathematical strategies.
Now I understand
though I am not a number,
and I do not add up; yet
I count just because
I am me
Inspired by #BeautifulMess prompt 'Numbers'
Request permission to use this poem